


Grey Skies and Dry Eyes

by spibsy (lucy_and_ramona)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_and_ramona/pseuds/spibsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Liam just has to get away from the craziness, and if the price to pay is the smell of smoke for fifteen minutes, it's worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey Skies and Dry Eyes

It was never supposed to become a thing. Liam doesn't mind that it _is_ a thing, not really, but sometimes he worries that Zayn minds, and he wishes he could at least tell him that it wasn't _supposed_ to be.

Liam's bad at telling people things, though, which is actually probably how it starts, because he can't just banter with the others.

He latches onto Zayn almost immediately after this starts, because Zayn's easy to talk to, and sometimes he doesn't talk at all. Liam likes that in people.

Zayn isn't like Louis, who seems to fill up every moment of silence like he can't stand it being there, and he isn't like Niall, so high on life that he can't ever stay still. Zayn can just stand there and smoke, and Liam can sit with him in silence, and breathe.

Everything is crazy, has been crazy from the start, and he needs those moments, craves them like Zayn craves his cigarettes. Zayn will gesture with his lighter even though the others aren't paying attention, bouncing around like children, and Liam will ask, "Hey, mind if I come with?"

The first time, Zayn had given him a considering look, raised eyebrows and his head tilted like he's trying to figure out Liam's motive. Liam doesn't have a motive though, aside from being able to think away from the craziness. He doesn't know if Zayn can sense that or if he just gives up trying to figure it out, but he nods with a smile, sure, of course, Liam.

"Not looking to pick up the habit, are you?" Zayn mumbles around the cigarette already clenched between his teeth, cupping the other end to keep the breeze from blowing out the flame of his lighter. "Terrible for you. And if there're _two_ in the group, dunno what Simon'll do."

Zayn's already gotten the talk, don't let anybody from the press see you until you're eighteen, get someone else to buy them for you. He heeds it well, from what Liam can see, staying in back alleys and bathrooms, asking their security guards to nip out and get him a pack.

"I'm not," Liam answers after a moment of watching the end of it glow orange. "Just... Thought you might like the company." He shrugs and feels guilty for the lie. His motives are entirely selfish.

"Or you didn't want to hang around the circus for a couple minutes," Zayn snorts. Liam flushes, unsure if he's being transparent or if Zayn's unusually perceptive.

"... Maybe," he allows. He fidgets, fingers twisting together in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "I just like quiet."

"That makes two of us." Zayn lifts his eyes then as he breathes out the smoke, and Liam watches as it twists in tendrils up toward the sky. "I don't mind, y'know? That you're _using_ me." He's smiling, the corner lifted in amusement.

"Am not," Liam protests, and he sort of means it. "I like talking to you. S'just a bonus, really."

Zayn laughs, tapping the ash off the end. "I like talking to you too." His cheeks hollow as he sucks in more of the smoke. He's got remarkable cheekbones, Liam notices absently.

It wasn't meant to continue, really, but it does. Liam doesn't assume anything, he always asks if he can go with him, but Zayn begins to give him looks like he _shouldn't_ ask, so Liam stops.

Zayn will stand and gesture with his lighter, and the others will nod or ignore him, and Liam will silently stand as well, plodding along behind him until Zayn pauses to let him catch up.

Once, Niall had asked to come with them, and it had thrown them both, Liam could tell. Zayn had taken a moment to answer, and in that moment, Niall's smile had started to fade and he'd looked slightly embarrassed, and neither of them wants that. For all that Harry's the youngest, Niall's the baby of the group, they're all aware.

"Yeah, course," Zayn says quickly, offering him a smile. It's pleasant enough, they all have a nice chat about their performance that Saturday, and it's nice, it really is. Niall never asks to come with them again, though. Liam is secretly pleased, and feels like a horrible person for it.

Liam doesn't know why he expected it to just stop after the show ended, but he did. They come third, and Harry cries, and then they get signed, and Harry cries again. Zayn sometimes goes off to smoke, but Liam doesn't follow him, figures now they're not in this bubble of The Show and Zayn probably wants time to himself.

"D'you want to come with?" Zayn asks, four days into tour and three seconds after he gestured that he was going out for a smoke. He's staring straight at Liam, and none of the others are paying attention.

Liam nods, struck dumb, and silently heaves himself out of his chair, dodging one of Louis's flailing arms and ducking as one of Niall's shoes comes flying at his head.

They walk in silence. Zayn doesn't have to hide it anymore, has been legal since last month, but it's automatic at this point to creep into back alleys. It's freezing, and Liam tucks his hands up underneath his armpits.

"I thought you wouldn't want to anymore," someone says, and it's only after a moment that Liam realizes it was him. Zayn's staring at him like he's an idiot. He _feels_ like an idiot.

"I thought _you_ didn't want to anymore," Zayn says, flicking the end of his cigarette. "You twat," he adds.

Liam laughs, can't help but laugh. "Sorry," he says, ducking his head. Zayn releases a beleagured sigh, pats his head, tells him it's alright, but that he's still stupid.

Liam feels squirmy inside, and too warm even though he's freezing. Zayn calling him stupid should probably offend him or something, but it just makes him grin in the way he hates, the way that makes his whole face scrunch up.

Zayn's looking at Liam like he doesn't quite know what to make of him, his head tilted and his eyes squinted in curiosity. "You're a weird guy, Liam," he informs him, stubbing the end of his cigarette out against the wall of the building he's leaning against. "I like you."

"I like you too." He sounds far too reverent and knows it, wants to take it back but can't. The way Zayn's looking at him now isn't a way he can recall Zayn ever looking at him before. That scares him.

"Hey, I'm gonna try something, alright?" Zayn asks, and before Liam can say anything, there's a hand behind his neck tugging him forward.

Zayn's mouth tastes of smoke, not that Liam's surprised. Smoke and something else he doesn't know what to describe. He's pretty sure it's just Zayn.

Zayn pulls back looking contemplative, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Hm," he says. "Alright."

"Alright?" Liam asks. He can't feel his limbs and doesn't know if that's due to cold or if he's gone into shock. He's pretty sure that second thought's just him being dramatic, though.

Zayn nods, shoving his lighter back into his pocket with one hand and stroking the thumb of the other over Liam's cheekbone.

"Yeah," he says, smiling. "Alright."

"Alright," Liam says because he can't think of anything else to say. Zayn breaks into laughter, and when _his_ whole face scrunches up, it's just lovely.

"You're so weird," Zayn says, and Liam doesn't think that's quite fair, but then Zayn is holding his hand, and that's quite nice even if Liam's having trouble feeling it right now. "I like it, though."

"That works out well for me, doesn't it?" Liam smiles, and he's pretty sure it's scrunching up his face again, but he doesn't care. That says a lot, probably. "I like _you_."

"Shut up," Zayn says, and he's turning away before Liam can tell for sure whether or not he's blushing. "It's fuckin' freezing outside, why'd you drag me out here?"

Liam doesn't point out that he's not the one with the disgusting habit, but it's a close thing.

Zayn keeps holding his hand the whole way back into their dressing room, and by the time they get inside, Liam can almost feel it.


End file.
